


116'

by sentenza



Category: Gomorra - La Serie | Gomorrah (TV), L'Immortale (2019)
Genre: Gen, Platonic Soulmates, Spoilers for L'Immortale movie, They are perfection, You Decide, or not so platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentenza/pseuds/sentenza
Summary: My personal interpretation of what happens at the minute 116, after the screen fades to black and the movie is over.I HAD to write this after watching L'Immortale, SPOILERS inside.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	116'

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a link to the [last scene in the movie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uooTvLixs_0&t=22s), quality is crap but it serves its purpose if you are curious. Don't worry, there's no dialogue.

“You came to get me” are the first, incredulous words whispered by Ciro, his heart crushed in a vice that has gotten tighter with every step he took. That stretch of cement separating him from Gennaro had felt endless, but now he is so close he can almost touch him. Ciro has never seen him so unkept, so not put together, not even when he had came searching for him what feels like an eternity ago after Avitabile had took everything from him.

“Did you like my present?” asks him Gennaro, a strange violent gleam in the tired lines crossing his face.

He doesn't really know what to answer, the image and smell of don Aniello's severed, rotting head completely obliterated by Genny's own presence. In the end, him averting his eyes in shame for having capitulated to the old man's request so easily, is enough for Genny.

Ciro knows the other man is waiting for an explanation, for an apology, but he has none. What can he say? He had just done what he believed was for the best, took the right decision for both of them, as he has always done, and never looked back. Gennaro should know by now, and he had hoped against all hope that he had finally seen that a life without someone like him was better.

“You look horrible” he rasps out, a deprecating half smile all his muscles can manage after a year of sadness and grief, “like you drove all the way from Naples to Latvia.”

It is meant as a joke, but Genny doesn't seem to appreciate the irony.

“Well” he begins with an irritated scowl, “It's not like I can take a plane and go wherever the fuck I want now, do I?”

He really drove all the way to Riga just to get him. Ciro feels so touched he almost can't believe that his stinging eyes don't spill over when his lids close with a shiver, heavy and swollen for the all-nighter he pulled in that forest at the outskirts of this blasted, darkless city.

Gennaro's forehead touches his and he almost collapses against his friend, he'd like to throw his arms around his neck and let Gennaro bear the entirety of his weight, which seems to have become intolerable, but he resists. He has resisted three hundred and sixty-five days, he can do it now.

“Besides” murmurs Genny, so close Ciro can feel his own lashes caress the other man's skin, “you don't look so well yourself, Ciru'. What the fuck were you doing? You smell of smoke and gunpowder.”

Yeah, he probably does.

Almost like jerking awake, Ciro tears his forehead away from Gennaro's own, he knows Vera is standing right behind them, he saw that in the way Genny's eyes flickered past him, to the gaping maws of the dilapidated warehouse and to the lonely, confused figure of the woman emerging from its darkness.

“Are you... Are you tired?” he asks him in a sigh that's very close to a sob, one of his cold, clammy hands going to brush away that lonely teardrop that managed to escape from the trap of his lashes, “I have a place... It's not far, if you want to rest. Tell me what's going on at home...”

He is babbling, Ciro knows this, but he can't stop. There's so much he wants to say to Gennaro that he just doesn't know where to begin. It's an absolute relief when a warm, broad palm closes around his upper arm, squeezing almost to the point of pain and stops him.

“Yeah” says Gennaro clearing his throat, “Yeah, some rest would be nice.”

Vera has to steel herself from running away when the rickety wooden door to Ciro's house opens and it's _that_ man on the other side. She is not sure who he is, but a whirlwind of whispers had filled the warehouse after he and Ciro had left. A boss, a powerful one. From Secondigliano.

A Savastano.

Even hundreds of kilometers from Naples that name meant something for people like them.

“I just” begins Vera, putting up the most confident and servile front she can master, “wanted to know if you needed anything. We are all at your disposal, here.”

“No” the stocky man mumbles out, clearing his throat in something that should be irritation but, to a woman like her, holds a trace of boyish embarrassment, “It's fine, thank you. I'll let you know if there's anything that might be needed.”

A slight mumbles comes from the dark inside of the house, the man's eyes darting to the side and Vera's own following them. There, beyond the imposing frame of the man standing at the door, curled on the sofa is Ciro. He is sleeping, his eyes, swollen and rimmed in red like he has just finished crying, standing out against the pale backdrop of his skin. He looks bone tired and yet... There's something in his face Vera has never seen for the whole time they have been living one next to the other.

He almost looks... Light.

“You may go.” grouses the man standing between her and the sleeping figure of the man that helped her avenger her husband, in an instant the slammed-close door is all that she can see.

It' a relief getting away from that penetrating stare but still Vera feels a strange disappointment, she prides herself for being sincere, honest to the point of bluntness, someone that can live up to their own mistakes. Something tells her Ciro won't be here for long and she would have liked to tell him that she had been wrong about him a second time. Vera had seen it in his backbone, in his hands and arms and shoulders, just hours ago... It appeared, in fact, that Ciro Di Marzio was _not_ a man that didn't wish for anything anymore in life, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe we might have to wait until 2021 for season 5. I'M DYING HERE!


End file.
